


All the Sweeter

by lilithilien



Category: Plata Quemada | Burnt Money (2000)
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithilien/pseuds/lilithilien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't supposed to be out, but they weren't supposed to have this either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Sweeter

They weren't supposed to be out. Nene knew this, and knowing it made their escape all the sweeter. It was like sprinkling powdered sugar on honeycakes, an unnecessary but delicious indulgence. Or maybe it was Angel's eyes that sweetened the night, the way they lit up when they saw the sparkling marquee. It was a risk, being out in public, but for that expression it was worth it.

They moved through the Midway like the twins they were called, at the same pace, the same length in their stride, seemingly aware of the other's presence even when they weren't touching. Only their faces were different, one wide-eyed as he devoured the huge constructions of steel and light, the other wary, alert to danger. They eschewed the rides, steering each other with bumping shoulders past screaming children and unwashed carnies, making their way unhurriedly to the arcade games. The shooting gallery was full of surly teens and would-be bad guys. Nene watched coolly as they were sized up, and grinned to see that Angel's baby face had fooled them all. He could have made a killing taking bets--no one would ever suspect the cherub could hit six out of six--but there'd been enough killing of late, and they weren't supposed to be out.

Instead of taking money from the marks he spent it on beers and pizza slices, marvelling at how much better they tasted than inside the safehouse. Angel wanted churros then, wanted them filled with sticky jellies and dipped in chocolate, and Nene who'd never before had a sweet tooth wanted to taste the sugar coating his tongue and his teeth and his lips. He nudged Angel with his elbow and led them down the narrow gap between two tents. Here on the backside of the carnival the lights didn't follow, and eyes didn't look too closely at who else might be around; here Nene finally could let down his guard. He grabbed hold of Angel's lapels and spun him around, spun him so his back was against the side of a truck and Nene was on the outside, perched between him and any danger. His kiss alone could threaten his twin now, and he dove into it violently enough to overwhelm any of Angel's objections. His desperation drowned in the saccharine sweetness, his aggression faded in the kiss's brief return. 

All too brief. Nene was disarmed only to be shoved back, just far enough for Angel to sink to his knees before him. Hands clawed at his belt buckle, tugged at his fly, fingers with hair-trigger precision peeled back the cloth hiding his flesh. Nene felt the assault of cold air, chilly enough to make his balls, still swaddled in his underpants, twinge in sympathy. Then Angel's tongue cut a long, sticky stripe down his skin and cold was forgotten. Sensations spiralled through him up, the rarity of this feeling fuelling the surge up his spine, the ricochet back down to his toes, the world and everything in it growing and swelling until it was too much, far too much, and Nene crumbled at the intensity of it all. 

Angel tormented himself with thoughts of sin and prayers for redemption, but since the first touch of his hand Nene had never found any sanctity more divine than this. If there was any heaven worth knowing, it was in these places they shared, the deserted toilets, the bare mattresses, the dark parking lots, anywhere this communion could be found. They weren't supposed to have it, but they did, and that made it all the sweeter.

~~~ The End ~~~


End file.
